


Lurking in the Shadows

by miracujess



Series: ML Fandom Week [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Descriptions of Injury, F/M, Is this self-indulgent?, might continue as well oops??, mlfandomweek, noir!AU, nothing gory or graphic tho, so please be aware!, y e s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7785943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miracujess/pseuds/miracujess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The light filtered into the room in slanted slivers, leaving most of the room in gloom but still providing enough lighting to see over his desk. The fan rotated lazily above his head as he slouched in his chair behind the desk, a glass of whiskey sweating in his right hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lurking in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Noir AU bc obvious puns and OMG NOIR AU???

The light filtered into the room in slanted slivers, leaving most of the room in gloom but still providing enough lighting to see over his desk. The fan rotated lazily above his head as he slouched in his chair behind the desk, a glass of whiskey sweating in his right hand.

A sudden knock at the glass-pane door brought him out of his reverie. He looked up to see a silhouette of a woman through the glass. A customer! Never mind that they had not made an appointment. (No one had in a long time).

Heart pounding in anticipation, he straightened his office and appearance as quickly as he could before going to the door. With his hand braced on the doorknob, he took a breath to ready himself and fixed a welcoming smile on his face as he turned the knob and stepped back.

“Thank you for coming to Black Cat Investigations!” he greeted enthusiastically, squinting a little to let his eyes adjust to the flood of sudden brightness from the hallway.

His smile dimmed a little when he finally noticed the woman — no more than a girl, really — standing before him. She was shorter than him, and her clothes were rain soaked, which was odd seeing as it stopped raining three hours ago. Her hair fell in damp ringlets from what used to be an elaborate up-do, and blue lips peeked out from smudged, light pink lip-gloss. Her eye makeup left dark streaks running down her pallid, freckled cheeks, but the rain wasn’t the reason for her puffy and red-tinged eyes that were avoid his own. She was wearing a floor-length, bright red evening gown with a golden drop necklace under a sopping trench coat that rested on her shoulders, and ruined black satin pumps peeked out from under her mud-stained hem.

“Oh, mademoiselle, please come in. You’re shivering!” he said frantically, opening the door wider. She pushed past him without a word, stopping just in front of his desk as remnants of the rain fell from her trembling form.

Leaving the door open, he snatched his own coat from the coat stand beside the door and offered it to her. As she took it from him, their fingers brushed and he almost recoiled from shock. Her fingers were as cold as ice.

_How long had she been in the rain?_

She stared at the dark blue item in her hands with wonder, as if she had been the recipient of a simple act of kindness before. Then, with a dainty shrug, she let the garment on her shoulders fall to the floor in a wet heap. He winced at both the sound and the thought of what it might do to the hardwood, but he made no movement to pick it up, and neither did she.

Now that the trench coat was off, her pale arms were exposed, and even in the dimness, he could now see that her dress was backless and sleeveless, and he could see the dappling of dark bruises covering her from spine to wrist. He made a small gasp of horror, and she looked down, seemingly only remembering now that she had been hurt. She ducked her face and slid his coat on, fastening the belt tight at her waist and forcefully pushing the too-long sleeves up over her wrists.

Sensing that she wasn’t going to initiate conversation, he leant forward — making sure to give her wide berth — and gently pushed back the clients’ chair and gestured for her to take a seat before retreating to his own. He sat down, putting his elbows on the desk and clasping under his chin in a show of concern and interest. She looked at the waiting chair blankly, but eventually sat down, her spine ramrod straight and hands wringing the material of her lap.

The ceiling fan whirred above them, the condensation from his whiskey glass blurred the ink of the newspaper it sat on, and a discarded coat ruined his flooring.

He cleared his throat, wracking his brain for something to say. ‘ _Who did this to you?’_ seemed too callous. ‘ _What can I do you for?’_ was too casual, and he didn’t want to offer his assistance before knowing any details. ‘ _What’s the matter?’_ might trigger an onslaught of emotions that he was not equipped to handle.

Finally, he settled on the tried-and-true route. “What is your name?”

For the first time since she had walked into the room, she met his gaze. Her eyes were hard and as blue as the lightning that had streaked the sky just hours before.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said thickly, voice scarcely above a whisper. “My friend Alya Césaire might be dead, and it’s all my fault.”

Adrien had the feeling he would need more whiskey before the night was over.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Also might continue, so let me know~~
> 
> Fuck it's multichap now
> 
> P.S. How do I write a oneshot bc???? I can't??? seem?? to??????? What is tying up stories??


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